Thursday, January 20, 2011

I am now an Alabaman. Actually I think officially, I have to live here for a year to be considered a resident, but anyway. I am here. (And, unlike the governor of this fair state, I will consider you my brother or sister even if you aren't Christian. It's this kind of liberalism that gets me in trouble.)

The truth is that I like it here. When I first moved to Texas, I thought the people there were super nice and friendly (as compared to the people in Utah and Las Vegas, my previous places of residence). Holy crap, people, Alabamans make Texans look misanthropic sociopaths. Seriously, these people are so nice. (But maybe only because I'm Christian?)

We are living in temporary corporate housing (a furnished three-bedroom apartment), which is awesome, except for the kitchen, which is tiny. I am not complaining, however, because we are lucky, yes? Lots of people right here in this country would love to have our set-up, and don't even get me started on people in Africa. My point is: no complaints.

Veevs and Spe have been enrolled in the appropriate school. It is supposedly one of the best in Montgomery (and if the amount of homework Veevs came home with is any indication, it is certainly the most rigorous), so that's awesome.

Jakers and I are going to look at a preschool for him in just an hour or two (as soon as baby wakes up from his nap) and then my life will be that much easier.

I am still straightening and organizing and cramming things in nooks and crannies, but the big stuff is done and so I'm off to take a nap.

Sunday, January 9, 2011

Dear ones, I want to post on this blog, I really, really do. It turns out, however, that contrary to my previous post, my part of this whole moving business has expanded far beyond simply initialing papers.

Rhett said (rather dreamily), "You know, when we leave this house, I want people who are walking through here to think it could be a new home."

I can only tell you that this translates into a lot of work.

And also, why didn't you tell me that I had to practically preview every item in every room so that the movers don't end up moving empty bottles of hairspray and the like?

Also (there are a lot of alsos in this post, no?) because we are living in temporary corporate housing for about two months (or so), I have to pack for that, too.

There is a lot of unanticipated work going on here, and I have successfully sneaked away for the last five minutes, but Rhett's going to figure out that he's flying solo soon and then it's back to the grindstone for me. Good heavens, people. It's like moving is the worst thing ever!

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

"Giving someone the business" is one of my favorite phrases. I actually never use it because it's not really one of my favorite phrases, but in the past 24 hours it has caught my fancy, probably because so much business has been given out over here, how could I not suddenly love it?

A recap of business-giving:

Rhett gave me the business because I had not found my cell phone charger from our trip and I didn't pull my laptop out because it was in my laptop bag (this makes perfect sense when you know how lazy I felt yesterday), so I was basically incommunicado. I sat thinking for a few minutes about how this could possibly be Rhett's fault (I am very good at this game, you know), and discarded several possibilities that even I felt were far-fetched ("You were, you know, the one who canceled the home phone over a year ago" and "If you need to talk to me every minute of every day, perhaps you are too attached?"). I finally owned responsibility and apologized, but only as a last resort.

I gave Spe the business because yesterday I specifically told him to go and hang his backpack up on the hook where it goes in the closet where it goes and make sure, sweet son, that you put it, you know, WHERE IT GOES. Of course, this morning there was a mad hunt for a missing backpack which was eventually found in the toy room, which I'm pretty sure is NOT where it goes. The business was given, and then all was forgiven. Until tomorrow's mad hunt.

Baby Logan, who is now a one-year old, gave me the business because I wiped his nose for the fourth time this morning. Apparently, four is the breaking point. I'm trembling because he really needs another nose wipe, but if the business is given at four, how will he escalate at five? Hopefully after a nap we can start the tally over.

I am giving myself the business because I am SO tired, and yet there is a whole room full of things to unpack and toys to find homes for (post-Christmas organization). And THEN I need to start working on getting ready to move. Although Rhett's company is technically moving us, my part of the deal is full of hard work like signing my name to lots of documents! And initialing! Deciding what we need for the next three months! Like clothes! And toys!

I just discovered I must go give a nameless one-year old the business for pulling all the toilet roll off the roll, and a nameless three-year old who just told that same one-year old to "Get your butt out of here!" I'm so busy! Don't feel bad for me!